


You're the Blind One

by Bardic_Bat



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Angst, Bickering, Blind Character, Cute, Cyrodiil, Dorks, Dorks in Love, Eventual Relationships, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Lesbian Character, Light Angst, Long, Long-Term Relationship(s), Love, No Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Relationship(s), Riften, Romance, Slow Burn, Tamriel, Thieves Guild, Trust, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 12:50:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9549947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bardic_Bat/pseuds/Bardic_Bat
Summary: Onasha the extremely skilled Argonian thief is almost put out of her line of work when she gets her good eye injured, making her almost completely blind. She thinks she can't work for the Thieves Guild anymore until they assign Onasha a partner- Nimrelin the disrespectful Bosmer whelp.Nimrelin seems like an annoyance at first, but Onasha finds herself grudgingly growing fond of the female wood elf who seems to be hanging around the lizard even when she doesn't need her assistance....





	1. New Scars, New Partner

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for any grammar and spelling errors. I type on mobile.

The Argonian leaned back in her chair in the Ragged Flagon, tracing her newest scars either delicate, trembling fingers. Her good eye had been cut, and it rendered her almost completely blind- she could still see light and the vague, indistinct outlines of objects, but it was like having tissues draped over her eyes costantly. She blinked, trying to focus, but of course she couldn't.  
She made out a human figure in the world of blurs, and it sat down across from her. She instinctively turned her head towards the noise, sniffing the air.  
She didn't need the low voice to tell her it was Delvin who sat down- he had a very distinct "aging" smell to him she identifed as him a long time ago.  
"How're you fairing? Need a drink?" he asked, not unkindly.  
"I'll be alright Delvin. I don't want another of my senses hindered," she paused, then said in a lower voice, "What's gonna happen to my place in the Guild? This is all the home I got."  
She couldn't see the way Delvin rubbed the back of his neck, but she could hear the light clanging of his tankard as he set it down. She got a whiff of ale.  
"Onasha, we're not going to kick you out. You're too skilled, and the Guild isn't heartless. Besides your blindness might make for a good begging gimmick to get coins.  
"Course, we had another idea before we make you resort to that...," he trailed off, uncertainty coloring his voice.  
"Like?" Onasha asked.  
"We're going to assign you a partner-" the rest of what he was going to say was cut off by Onasha jolting the table and her following outburst.  
"Wai- who?! Oh by the Hist, tell me I'm not getting paired with a dark elf or some slobbering Nord!" she said, dread filling her. Who her partner didn't worry her as much as how weak and pathetic she'd look in front of the Guild.  
Delvin chuckled a bit explaining, "No, no. You're getting a new recruit. You just need help with navigating and pickin objects right? You can show her the ropes," he placed a hand on her scaled one.  
"That's... that's not so bad," she half mumbled, settling again.  
"Nah, it's not. Anyway, your partner's name is Nimrelin. She's again Bosmer that just crossed into Skyrim from Cyrodil. Uh, do you want again psychical description?" he asked awkwardly. Onasha nodded and he went on, "She's about 5'9, 5'10 and she's got a bit of muscle on her. Looks more of a fighter build than a thief. Her skins a bit tanned, she's got some scarring near her mouth. Dark, slightly squinty eyes. Light brown shoulder length hair. Got a pointy nose too," he stopped suddenly as another human figure came into Onasha's lack of eyesight. She couldn't tell who it was.  
"You're Onasha, yeah? I'm Nimrelin," the Bosmer said. Delvin gently lowered the wood elf's hand, seeing as Onasha couldn't see the gesture for a handshake.  
The lady had an accent and smelled strongly of pine and soil, which made sense.  
Onasha made a vague, inaccurate gesture for the lady to sit, which she did. Delvin left the two to get to know each other.  
"So you're the blind thief they told me about," Nimrelin began.  
"Recently blind," Onasha corrected quickly.  
"Well not really- you were already half blind, yeah? Decided to complete the job huh?"  
Onasha paused and made a weak chuckle. She didn't like how the Bosmer had the tendency to end her sentences in "yeah?"  
"I guess so. It was more like the rich Altmer I stole from wanted to finish the job."  
"Close enough. How'd you lose half your sight in the first place?"  
"Birth defect," Onasha said, her tone leaving no room for Nimrelin to ask more questions. Silence fell between them before the word elf started to talk again.  
"Well, I'm from Valenwood but I moved to Cyrodil a while back. Thieves Guild was a little touchy over there, and they gave me the suggestion to come up to this place. I just got here a week ago," she finished, and called for an ale.  
Suddenly something clicked in Onasha's memory. Maybe it the scent of alcohol mixing with the soil smell, or maybe it was the reminder that Nimrelin had arrived a week ago.  
Just before she went on the job where she lost her sight, she had been sitting in the Ragged Flagon again, drinking some Nordic mead. In had walked a wood elf- fairly tall, with a fighter's build.  
She had come in there like she owned the place, decked out in some weird Cyrodilic variation of elven armor, and strutted through the tavern. She had an amir of arrogance, and had snickered as she passed Onasha, no doubt because of the Argonian's lesser height and blind eye.  
The Bosmer asked to get into the Guild's place, using Brynjolf's name to get in.  
The entire time the self- centered mer had been there Onasha's scales itched with irritation.  
Nimrelin was the same Bosmer.  
"Oh Sithis," Onasha hissed. Nimrelin looked up, curiously as the Argonian muttered, "This is going to be hell."  
"Why's that?"  
"You're that same fuckin' elf who sauntered in here, snickered at me and made want to wring your neck with my bare hands."  
Unseen to Onasha, Nimrelin's eyes widened.  
"Son of a bastard, you remember that."


	2. Sloppy Elf, Abrasive Lizard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things have not been smooth between Nimrelin and Onasha, and they both reach their breaking point.

She scowled, sighing as she heard the Bosmer behind her once again. The well-muscled lady didn't seem to understand how to sneak up on others- or maybe that was just Onasha's heightened hearing. She turned around, opening her closed eyes, even though it didn't make much of a difference. She chocked back some unwelcome emotions as she saw the blurry light of the world. She could just make out the outline of a figure.  
Nimrelin smiled sheepishly, but internally she wanted to deck the purple-grey scaled Argonian. That blind lizard had better hearing than anyone she had ever met, and didn't take it easy on the wood elf during training. Nimrelin knew that Onasha didn't like her much- the feeling was mutual.  
"Sloppy. You need to lighten your footfalls more- lower your feet gently, or stand on your toes. And stop breathing so heavily, you sound like a dog," Onasha chided, rolling her eyes, which had little effect.  
"Well, maybe if I wasn't sneaking up on a _blind_ person no one would hear my breathing!" Nimrelin snapped. She had said several things like this before.  
"You got stuck with me to hone your skills, and that's what I'm doing. I'm one of the best damn thieves here, and you treat me like scum!" Onasha countered.  
"Maybe if you didn't treat me like dog shit, I wouldn't treat you like scum, yeah?" the normally friendly "yeah?" had a bite to it Onasha had never heard. Both could tell this argument was going to be different than the dozens they had in the two weeks since they had been paired up.  
"You pathetic, little whelp," Onasha hissed, striding towards the vague outline, and groping awkwardly for a second before she found the neck of the Bosmer's leathers, "You ungrateful, elven brat. I've been in this Guild since I was ten, and you're new here. You had best learn to pipe down and take criticism from your superiors before someone backhands you."  
Nimrelin grabbed Onasha's wrist, grinning savagely even though the lizard couldn't see it and spat, "There's no way a cranky, sailor-mouthed lizard is my superior."  
Onasha bared her teeth at the insult, bringing her other hand up to make good on the threat she had issued.  
She brought her hand down centimeters above the elf's head, brushing the soft hair there as Nimrelin gave a bark of laughter.  
"You sightless bastard, you can't even hit me properly!" Nimrelin said, pushing against the lizard and dislodging her hand from her leathers. Onasha stumbled a bit, not saying a word before she hit the Bosmer square in the face with a solid right hook.  
Nimrelin staggered, hand to her face, feeling blood drip from her nose. The Argonian had managed to break it. She gritted her teeth, stood upright and swung at the lady.  
Onasha heard the small grunt that accompanied the punch and dodged just in time, the elf's knuckles grazing her cheek. She retilated with a kick to the Bosmer's shin, before rolling swiftly to the side. Nimrelin blinked, shock starting to wear off as she felt her throbbing nose, and pivoted, going to try and hit the Argonian in the stomach.  
She hadn't accounted for the lizard not being there, and suddenly she felt something hit the back of her knee, toppling her. She managed to catch herself with her hands panting, and then felt a foot connect with her ribs.  
She flopped to the stone floor, her face thankfully landing on it's side. She saw Onasha's feet in front of her.  
"My aim may be worse, but you underestimated me. Sloppy," she said, crouching and handing Nimrelin a rag to clean the blood from her nose before continuing, "Muscle memory is a good substitute for sight if your opponent is posed properly."  
Onasha had been sparing with Delvin and Sapphire when she wasn't training Nimrelin and they had taught her how to use what she already learned. Her arms still remembered the proper places to hit, and her strength wasn't any less.  
Swords on the other hand, were much harder for her.  
Nimrelin sat up, feeling her side with one hand as the other held the cloth to stop her nose from dripping everywhere. No ribs were broken, but her assumptions of Onasha had been shattered. She thought the Argonian couldn't fight anymore in her state and her first punch had confirmed those thoughts.  
Now she was on the ground with a broken nose.  
Grudgingly she admitted that the lizard had earned some small respect from her. She could be snappish, crabby, and surly with Nimrelin, but she was her teacher and she could thoroughly beat her to a pulp if she wanted too.  
Besides, Nimrelin had seen the way she acted around the others. She smiled in passing at Sapphire and Delvin, gave a friendly pat on the shoulder to Vex, a greeting to Voltob -an Orc who joined up a month before Nimrelin- and even stop to talk to Tonilia the fence a few times. The Argonian was good natured with them, blunt and too the point yes, but joking and kind.  
It made her feel lesser about herself. What had she done to upset Onasha so badly? Was it really such a crime the way she had walked into the Ragged Flagon on her first day?  
Onasha looked down at the taller wood elf. Admittedly she hadn't really deserved the broken nose, but the way she acted like she knew everything and was the best thing in the place, the way she nearly strutted everywhere, that arrogance Nimrelin possessed, the way she snapped at Onasha nearly every lesson, all of it, had been wearing thin on her already frayed nerves. She knew the Bosmer was trying, she could see it in the progress she had made, the way that she smelled of sweat whenever she left Onasha's care.  
Perhaps she should lighten up and show the girl some kindness. She wasn't all bad.  
The Argonian flopped on the floor next to Nimrelin, smiling a bit.  
"I know I can be coarse, Nimrelin, but you have been makin' progress," she paused, "Sorry 'bout the nose. It should mend pretty well, but you can see that face changer if you want- I'll pay."  
Nimrelin blinked at the other's words- Onasha rarely did anything for her, much less pay for something she did _to_ her, not to mention the expression of...well, pride.  
"Thanks, Onasha. I,uh, didn' know you could fight so well. You should show me some moves, yeah?" Nimrelin said, her voice shaking a bit.  
"Sure thing. You've got to be able to defend yourself without a weapon as well," the lizard beamed, showing her teeth.  
Nimrelin, however, didn't miss the way Onasha's hand moved to trace her freshest scars, as if thinking about how she got them. No one really knew how, and they didn't bother to ask the abrasive Argonian.  
Nimrelin nodded, storing the thoughts of the scars to back of her head, and stood, walking away to go and get assistance. Onasha made her way out of the training room to her bed.  
She rummaged through the side table, pulling out some of the gold she had stored away. She counted out enough to cover for the broken nose and sighed. Onasha had to get back to stealing, and soon, or she'd run out of enough coins to feed herself.  
Running a hand down her cheek, she thought of the...chemistry between her and Nimrelin. They had a rocky, uneasy partnership, although she had almost caught a hit of respect in he other's tone.  
_Another week,_ she thought to herself, _and we'll try a robbery._


	3. First Robbery, First Drinks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Onasha and Nimrelin go on a robbery together.

She breathed in deeply through her nose, smelling the air around her. Riften always smelled of river, fish, dampness and wood, although sometimes it smelled more like sweat. Really, it depended on where you stood. Next to her she could smell Nimrelin- soil and well worn leathers, with a hint of that same woody scent that gave her away as a wood elf.   
In front of her was the vague outline of the back of a house, and she could only tell it was night time by the lack of light. She looked at the building and drew in another big breath.  
This was their first robbery together.   
Things had been going surprisingly better since she had broken Nimrelin's nose. They bickered less, although they still argued. They hadn't fought again however, and Onasha could feel a reluctant sort of respect from the girl. She, in turn, also respected her, and taken less to thinking of her a childish girl or elf- they were very nearly the same age after all.   
They had formed an uneasy understanding of each other, although they rarely spent time together outside of training sessions, for the both of them now. During the past week Onasha had worked on hand signals to give Nimrelin when she needed help with something, and Nimrelin had worked on various pokes, touches and strokes on the Arognian's arm to tell her when there was a wall, valuables or a person. It was still a crude system of communication, but they needed to test it.  
Onasha wasn't sure who they were robbing, nor did she really care. She made the hand signal for Nimrelin to go pick the lock, and followed the blurry figure to the door. She listened carefully to the lock- she'd do it herself, but she couldn't even tell where the door was. She heard the telltale click of the proper positioning and made the signal for stop and turn the pick. Nimrelin must've obeyed because a moment later the door swung open with a soft creak and the Bosmer laid on hand on the other's arm, and stroked with two fingers.   
They both stepped inside, Nimrelin leading, with Onasha holding onto the back of the lady's leathers. They had tried this technique by making a maze of barrels and it worked well enough.They twisted their way upstairs and into a room, Onasha letting her tail drag a bit the entire time to tell the floor layout. They stopped and Nimrelin drew a circle with a dot in the middle on Onasha's arm, which meant another lock. The lizard nodded and Nimrelin set to work.  
The Bosmer didn't really pick locks- she turned the pick very, very slowly so Onasha could listen for the sound when it got to the right location. It was a tad tedious, but the wood elf still couldn't pin down how to open locks.  
Onasha signed a few things, and Nimrelin shifted, letting Onasha grab the pick and knife, and continue the work she had been doing, purely by sound and touch now.  
The small casket soon popped open, and Nimrelin drew a jewel shape on the lizard, putting her other hand in and grabbing a sapphire, garnet and handful of coins. She then poked the lady three times, and Onasha nodded, staying in place as Nimrelin swept the room of any other valuables.  
Nimrelin had monitored the occupant of the house, and they left every other night to go drink late at the tavern. With any luck the man wouldn't be back until early morning, and even if he didn't stumble in he might be too drunk to care about the thieves.  
Nimrelin returned to Onasha, some fine clothes and a painting urn in the sack they used for loot. She put the gems in there too and handed it carefully to Onasha, who would carry it, leaving Nimrelin's hands free for grabbing things.   
Onasha sighed out of relief when she felt the bag. She nodded in thanks, glad the Bosmer didn't ditch her.   
The two still were weary and un-trustful of one another.  
Onasha started out the way they had cam, in the same manner, before she heard the sound of a door opening, a sharp intake of breath, and then the clumsy "I'm trying to be quiet" footsteps of someone coming home to a suspicious situation.  
Quickly she signed something crude they had made up for intruder and they ducked to a shadowy corner below the stairs. Onasha thanked the Hist that the layout meant the stairs were in a side room, and not right in front of the door.   
She had an idea, right then, under the steps and roughly yanked Nimrelin's head towards her snout.  
"Pass it off like I'm old blind Arognian who entered the wrong house," was all she whispered before digging in the sack, throwing on the clothes haphazardly, and ducking out into the open, making quite a bit of noise as she stumbled. Nimrelin resisted the urge to scream and followed, grabbing Onasha's shoulder in a vice grip.  
"Rajee, you've got the wrong house," she said, pulling back her accent and guiding "Rajee" towards the door, and homeowner.  
Nimrelin sent a quick thanks to the Divine and Daedra that the man was tipsy.  
"What's going on here?" he slurred, looking confused.  
"This old one I'm taking care of entered the wrong house after a day of shopping, and I didn't catch up until a few minutes ago. I'm sorry about the intrusion sir, but she is blind," Nimrelin gestured to "Rajee".  
"The door was unlocked- I always leave the door unlocked!" Onahsa said, her voice altered to sound much older than she was.   
"I'll just get her out of her here and leave you sir," Nimrelin shoved her way out, pulling Onasha with her and praying that the man hadn't gotten a good look at their faces.  
Onasha could hear him muttering about leaving the door unlocked as they walked briskly away, and towards the cemetery, and through the secret entrance to the Guild.  
Then she smiled hugely and gave a loud whoop as the fake tomb closed over them.  
"I can't believe that fuckin' worked!" she half shouted.  
"You're insane," Nimrelin panted. She had been holding her breath, "Absolutely mad. He knows who we are now, we'll be reported."  
"No way. He was two drinks from wasted, and blame other thieves," Onasha said, pulling off the disheveled garb, "And even then I can pay off the guards not to speak."  
"You're still insane," Nimrelin insisted as Onasha flung the garment into the bag and straightened her armor. The blind lizard smiled sharply and didn't deny the others claim.  
Nimrelin started to laugh, and Onasha laughed as well. It felt good.  
"You did great out there," she commented.  
"Yeah well, we wouldn't have even gotten in if it wasn't for you," Nimrelin chuckled, "Or out."  
"Good point," Onasha shrugged, but patted the sack that held the loot. Nimrelin got the message- that trip would have been useless without her.  
"We cut the profits half and half?"  
"This time, I guess," Onasha agreed. Nimrelin sighed, shaking her head a bit. The woman could never just answer straight when it came to money, but with everything else she was as blunt as a warhammer.  
They entered the Guild and fenced everything off, splitting the profit 50/50 like they agreed.  
And for the first time in three weeks of training one another they sat down and had a drink together. Onasha got mead, and Nimrelin ordered ale.   
"I've wanted to ask for a while- what was Valenwood like?" the lizard began.  
"Beautiful. Peaceful. Plentiful. Downright boring. No one there did much, so I moved to Cryodiil and trained myself to be a thief," Nimrelin replied.  
"Wait, you're self trained?"  
"Yeah, I didn't have any coin when I moved, so I took to stealing and begging."  
"Well I'll be damned. I thought someone over there woulda trained you."  
"Nah, they thought I belonged in the Fighters Guild," Nimrelin paused, then asked hesitantly, "What about you Onasha?"  
"Me?" Nimrelin nodded and the lizard sighed, going on, "Born and raised in Black Marsh. I went up to Morrowind for a few years, trained there to be a thief, and moved to Skyrim."  
"Morrowind, huh? Why would you want to go to a ash choked wasteland?"  
"It..it seemed like a good idea," Onasha said, dodging the question. She did that whenever someone pried into her personal life, her thoughts and feelings.   
Nimrelin let it drop, disappointed. She though the mission had been a success, a risky one, and that maybe she had earned Onasha's trust. Instead the Arognian was just as reserved as ever, but perhaps.  
Perhaps she was a bit warmer towards her. Nimrelin smiled as she left the money to pay for their drinks.


	4. Secret Closeness, an Almost Wish

Nimrelin prodded her nose, feeling the way it settled. It was crooked, a weird lump on her face. She sighed heavily, casting a glance at the thousand gold pieces Onasha gave her. They were for her to see the face sculptor in the Ragged Flagon.  
Nimrelin didn't feel like she should use those coins- Onasha was blind, therefore she had a hard time making a living. But the lizard had given them to Nimrelin to pay for the damage done to her face, a sort of token of weary respect. Sighing, she picked the little fabric bag up, tossing it in her hands as she walked into the Flagon- or rather strutted. Though she acted normally, perhaps even timidly while alone, in the public eye she swayed and spoke with confidence, never flinching from anything, always loud and pretending as if she knew everything.  
Nimrelin had kept up the personna of a master thief ever since day one of her career. She had learned quickly that the confident weren't questioned nor stolen from.  
She glanced around the pub, listing off various members in her head. Onasha wasn't there- she must've been out begging, or perhaps resting in one of the training rooms or beds in the Cistern. Nimrelin found herself surprised around confused when she felt both sad and relieved the Argonian wasn't there. She had wanted to see her again, especially after the robbery of last night, but she also didn't want the lady to see the verison of her Onasha despised so much.  
Nimrelin shook her head but couldn't get rid of the concern she felt towards how Onasha viewed her. She couldn't remember when she started caring so much about how that damnable lizard saw her.  
Finally she looked at the face sculptor, horking over her- Onasha's- money.  
"What do you want me to sculpt?" she asked, looking at the Bosmer from under her white hood.  
"My nose. Some reptile broke it a while back and settled crooked," Nimrelin explained, trying to throw as much comtempt into her voice when she referred to Onasha. She knew it sounded over-acted.  
"I'll see what I can do, but you should have seen some trained in the medical arts," the woman said, gesturing for Nimrelin to take a chair and sit.   
The woman in white ran her thumbs over the misshapened lump of the wood elf's nose. Nimrelin could feel her nose is morph, a slight tingling accompanying it.   
In mere moments her face was back to normal, albeit with a slightly shorter nose. Nimrelin smiled at the lady and moved on, trying her very best to cast her thoughts away from Onasha.  
"Speak of the devil," she muttered as Onasha emerged from the Cistern. Heart racing and feelings tangling, Nimrelin glanced around for an did place to hide.   
Onasha drifted lazily into the Flagon, yawning. She had slept after the robbery, and hadn't woken until twenty minutes ago. She knew it was well into the afternoon, but she had always been a heavy sleeper.  
With a little yawn she passed into the pub, smiling at those who were around.   
Rune pointedly looked away from her as she passed by- the two had never been on the best of terms since one of their jobs together went awry.   
Onasha passed right by Nimrelin's hiding spot, as she walked around the large central pool. The Bosmer crouched in the shadows in a little niche in the wall as the Argonian went by.  
Almost as if on instinct, Nimrelin inhaled sharply. Onasha smelled of leather and her bed roll, slightly damp almost, scaly, reptilian. It wasn't unpleasant, in fact...  
Nimrelin's heart lept as the lizard sniffed the air, turning blindly towards her.   
Then the lady shrugged, seeming to determine no one was there as Nimrelin held her breath. Onasha moved on, going to sit by the pool and hang her feet in. Relieved, and strangely excited by the closeness that she had just secretly shared, Nimrelin stole back to the Cistern.  
Onasha sat at the waters edge, splashing gently, and almost wished for someone's company.


	5. Never Nicknames, Never Friends

Onasha breathed in deeply, the scent of incense filling her nose. She had a very keen sense of smell, but this had always been very pleasant for her. She'd never ever admit it but she greatly enjoyed meditation. And no one was allowed to find out, so she always made sure to keep the smell in her quarters, and to do it while everyone else was out on jobs.   
She didn't really have a room in the guild, just like everyone else, but she knew the practice room in the cistern was hardly used, except by new recruits.   
The only new recruit was out in a very small job as of right now, which meant she was alone for now.   
She had a habit of closing her eyes during it- carried over from when she could still see. Maybe it was the complete darkness that was behind her lids that she enjoyed, but whatever it was, Onasha was always sure to have her eyes closed.   
She shifted slightly, returning to her quiet state. The incense was starting to smell less and less, a sign that she should either leave or burn some more.   
Sighing heavily, and unable to calm down again she opened her eyes, for what little good that would go, and carefully put out her incense.   
Then she heard footsteps. She smelt someone coming towards the training room.   
Panicking she stuffed her materials into her pockets, and sprung up from the ground, moving towards the exit and she was almost out-  
“By the daedra,woul- oh. Uh. Sorry Onasha, didn't know it was you,” Nimrelin apologized, rubbing her forehead where Onasha’s snout had hit her.   
“No, no it's fine, I was hurrying,” she said, now trying to shift past the elf.   
“Whys that?”  
“W-well, no reason, just want to get a drink, now if you excuse me….” Onasha tried again to squeeze past.   
“What's the hurry then, yeah? Drinks will always be there,” Nimrelin smiled, leaning against the doorway naturally and blocking the lizard from exiting.   
“I’m quite thirsty and I would like a drink, Nimrelin,” she paused, gently feeling where Nimrelin was and sighed, “Please move. You’re blocking me.”  
There was a beat of silence, and the another. The wood elf blinked and breathed deeply, preparing herself for something big.  
“Onasha, I got something I wanna talk about,” she said.  
“What is it?” Onasha blinked, trying not to let her nervousness show. Nimrelin breathed in sharply.  
She jumped over the bullet. She wasn’t ready.  
“Could I call you Ona?”  
“What?” Onasha bristled, confused.  
“I wanna call you Ona. like a nickname, yeah? You could call me Nim if you’d like, or you could choose the name, wha-”  
“No.”  
“Hang on, you didn’t even give me a chance!”  
“You’re not calling me ‘Ona’ or any nickname. We’re business partners, nothing more. Nicknames only build relationships,” Onasha said shortly and pushed past Nimrelin. She tried not to think too much of how she liked the sound of her shortened name.  
Nimrelin turned around and jogged a bit, catching up with the Arognian. Neither said a word, Nimrelin still a little blown back.  
“Uh, well. What were you up to?” she questioned, trying to break the ice again.  
“Practicing, obviously,” Onasha snapped.  
“Wow, alright, no need to be rude.”  
“I wasn’t.”  
“Yeah, you really were. What happened to you anyway?” Nimrelin paused and then decided to plow on, “You were almost open with me after our first job, but since then you’ve been cold! You don’t have to treat me like I’m mudcrab guts on your boots, you know! We could be friends, if you’d just stop...being like this.”  
Onasha turned towards the smaller wood elf, her snout almost thwacking the other girl in the nose.   
“Nimrelin Duskmire, you need to learn something about being a thief. You don’t make friends with the people you work with. Attachments to them get you nowhere, keep you in one spot even when it’s dried up. Open your damn eyes,” Onasha growled, and then stormed off quickly, not sparing another glance for the elf.  
Nimrelin stared after her, longing to say something, but she kept her mouth closed. You didn’t just shout after someone that you love them. That wasn’t the way things worked.   
She shook her head, staring listlessly at the ground. Nimrelin was determined to make Onasha see it her way, but the lizard had such a stubborn, cold attitude it was like talking to the Skyrim’s own Throat of the World.  
She walked back out to the pub part, and ordered a drink. Onasha was nowhere to be seen, and the Bosmer frowned. That was strange. She had said she wanted a drink, but wasn’t here- a lie. Then obviously, Onasha had been something she didn’t want anyone to know about.  
Nimrelin pondered what that could be, trying not to let her mind tray into the gutter, and with a little concentration, she decided on a plan.   
Onasha shoved her incense into the chest near her bed, slamming the lid, beating herself up mentally. She scrambled with the lock, and finally managed to secure the chest, snarling quietly and flopping onto her bed.  
She stared at the ceiling, breathing heavily. She was not about to make friends with that skinny, undersized Bosmer. Last time she made friends with a fellow thief she lost everything.   
Everything.   
Blinking hard, she looked somewhere else. Her eyes couldn’t even see anything properly, so it didn’t matter. Just like her feelings for Nimrelin. They didn’t matter. She was determined to keep cold and distant to her.   
She pushed herself up and changed, finding her way to Cistern exit. She emerged in the cold Riften air, and fished a key out of her dress pocket, striding confidently towards her residence. She needed something from it, although she never went there often. There was almost nothig in it anyway, except for some loot, which included a staff.   
She was getting awfully tired of walking blind, and she need something to take her mind off the Bosmer.  
Opening the door she breathed in the scent of the dust. Onasha hated this place- it was full of things from Morrowind and Black Marsh, portraits of her egg-siblings, keepsakes from people long forgotten. She bumbled her way quickly through the mess, and she was so focused on finding the thing she didn’t notice the other familiar scent.  
It was only when she heard footsteps that she spun around in surprise. She sniffed the air, trying to tell what was out of place.   
She placed the smell, and growled low in her throat. Nimrelin had followed her here.   
“What do you have to say for yourself, elf?” she snapped.   
“I-well- you lied to me.”  
“My business is my own. Get out.”  
“It's...it's uh. Rather dark in here. Would you prefer some help? You've knocked over a stack of books over there,” Nimrelin gestured vaguely.   
“Fine. Light a candle if it'll ease your poor mind and then get out,” Onasha turned her back, returning to feeling her way through the house, and to the stairs.   
She smelt Nimrelin following again once she reached the top, and sighed heavily, turning again. There seemed to be actual light coming from that direction- the Bosme had fetched some flames.   
“I-uh. Your candle,” she said, climbing a few steps and holding it out. Onasha snatched it from Nimrelin and continued her search, mildly aided now.   
Nimrelin quietly left the house. She didn't know why she thought following the lizard there would help in the first place. Ridiculous.   
She had almost closed the door before she stopped. Onasha’s foot was in between door and door frame, and then a staff. Nimrelin hauled it open for her and the Argonian came out with a clearly enchanted staff, that she was using to the tap the ground in front of her gently.   
Nimrelin figured the enchantment was to grant some extra protection- probably a summoning spell of some sort, something that didn't require aim and could see for her.   
Smart, she thought to herself, about to scramble away when the staff caught the loose, unfilled part of her boot where her small toes didn't reach.   
“You're not going now,” Onasha hissed, “Why did you follow me? It couldn't just be because I lied.”  
“I-I was curious- and angry-”  
“Duskmire, I told you already. We are not and will never be friends.”  
With that Onasha strode off quickly, making sure no one saw the few desperate tears that leaked from unseeing eyes.


End file.
